


A Court of Healing and Restoration

by Taylor_Reads



Series: ACOTAR series Rhysand POV [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Rhys is a little bit suicidal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24271507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taylor_Reads/pseuds/Taylor_Reads
Summary: He made her High Lady, taught her how to use her powers, taught her the politics and histories of the other courts, introduced her to the society and people of the Night Court and arranged for her to be able to physically defend herself.Everyone thought that it was to keep her safe. So that she would still be there with him. No one guessed that he was making sure she could be there instead of him.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron & Rhysand
Series: ACOTAR series Rhysand POV [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752052
Kudos: 9





	A Court of Healing and Restoration

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows Rhys starting from chapter 77 of ACOWAR and continues at least until the events of ACOFAS.
> 
> Warnings added for later chapters.
> 
> Rhys is in a dark, dark place in this one. You have been warned.

_Darkness._

It was the darkness that soothes and welcomes you home, and it was all around me. Embracing me as it whispered of an end to the suffering and pain, a restful slumber that I hadn’t known for longer than I could remember. The sound of someone screaming, but faint as if from another place and fading as I let myself be carried towards that comforting emptiness so different to the one which had taken up residence inside of me.

Peace was finally within my grasp. Not peace with the mortal lands. I hoped for an end to the war with the mortal queens and Hybern for my family, of course I did. But that was not the future that I had sought for myself. No, all I wanted for my own future was an _end._ No more pretending to be the brutal High Lord that the rest of Prythian expected me to be. No more pretending to be the strong, effective ruler that my Court deserved. And no more pretending to everyone, my family most of all, that I was ok.

Suddenly an escapable _presence_ , grief and rage and desperation, surrounding me, gripping me tightly and pulling me inexhaustibly back towards the screaming, away from the calm and silence. I thrashed in its grasp and grabbed onto the only familiar thing I could sense in that place. A darkness similar to my own and threaded with a swirl of silver, it was cool and soothing and spoke to me of control. A sharp jolt and then light and pain _everywhere_ and the remnants of the darkness slipping away no matter how tightly I tried to hold onto it, even as I begged it to _stay_.

Awareness of my surroundings returned to me, moving in to fill the space that the beautiful darkness had left. My mate, holding me tightly with tears streaming over her face. My family, Mor and my brothers, Varian, the other High Lords. I had failed then. Not to save them, but in that last, selfish attempt to save myself. It was gone.

I once again donned the mask of the High Lord, the cool conversationalist, the strategist as the discussions began on what our combined next steps should be, even as I still slumped against my mate. I was struggling to focus on the various debates that circled around me as I felt the last of my meagre strength failing. Cauldron, I was _so tired._ I tried to ignore the dark clouds swirling at the edges of my vision. Tried to hold on for just a little longer, I couldn’t let my weakness show in front of my family and tenuous allies. In front of my mate who was still desperately clutching my hand as if she would never let it go.

And Thesan, cauldron bless him, took one look at me, a slightly raised eyebrow the only hint that he saw through me, and insisted that the talks could wait. It was high time that we went to see to the needs of our various forces. My mate left me to see to the body of her father, her sisters in tow. For a moment I feared that she would ask me to go with them. I could barely sit unaided, how would I ever manage to walk back to that clearing? But, with a last glance back to where I was sitting as if to reassure herself that I was still sitting there, she and her sisters set off down the slope of the hill and back towards the centre of the battlefield.

Thesan and Helion waited until it was just the three of us left on the hill before aiming their most disapproving glares at me. Glares that left me in no doubt as to their opinion on my level of recovery. A diversion then.

“I don’t know about you two, but I could use a drink.” I took the hand that Helion offered me as he laughed at that, raised myself as far as my knees and the whole world exploded. “Mother’s great hairy armpits!” I could barely speak past that initial outburst, could barely _breathe_ , mother above _everything_ hurt. My vision fractured into a kaleidoscope of light and shadow, vague colours that I couldn’t distinguish from each other as the whirled in front of me with increasing urgency. I could no longer remember who or where I was, my entire being was reduced to the pain that wracked my body. The vague sensation of being lifted, winnowed and then placed on a pile of cushions inside my tent. Thesan’s hands on my shoulders, gripping me tightly enough that my focus was drawn away from the dizzying world of pain and back to his face inches from mine.

“Cauldron help me Rhysand, I will leave you at the mercy of the healers’ tent if you don’t get your damn breathing under control _NOW._ ” I tried to glare at him, although I don’t think it was particularly effective. I was _trying_ to control my breathing, but it wasn’t exactly easy when each gasp just made the pain _worse_. My vision started to splinter again, shimmering as it did so, spots of light dancing before my eyes. I thought I might pass out. Or maybe the gifts from the other High Lords hadn’t been enough, had only bought me a few moments, and now I was dying again. It was so much more painful than the first time. I wished for the soothing darkness to return, to end this fresh misery which had me utterly in its grasp. But Thesan was still holding me steady, one of my hands pressed against his ribs as he guided me to match him breath for breath.

As I calmed the pain receded and I lay back against the cushions, too exhausted to sit fully upright any longer. Thesan’s hands moved over me, a cool wave of his healing energy settling along the lines of my body and dimming the pain that still threatened to take control. Over Thesan’s shoulder I could just see Helion stood in the entrance to my tent as if on guard. It hit me again just how fortunate I was that these two High Lords were my allies when the others all thought the worst of me and my people. I caught Thesan’s eye and nodded my thanks to him, still a little too breathless to speak and not entirely sure that it wouldn’t be incredibly painful to try.

Thesan looked like he might have more to say, probably a lecture on pushing myself unnecessarily, but he turned to face the entrance to the entrance of my tent as Nuala and Cerridwen stepped through the opening. “I’ll leave you to your _rest_ then” and he stood fluidly, turning to leave. Through the opening in the tent flaps I saw Helion fall into step beside him as they left, presumably to tend to their own forces now that my minders were here. I had no doubt that Azriel had summoned them to watch over me, the interfering bastard. My last sight was of the two of them quietly taking care of me yet again before the exhaustion I had been fighting since the cauldron only knew when finally dragged me down into slumber.


End file.
